


The Space Log

by Jaydeemz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy and Murphy will be buddies, Canon-Compliant, F/M, Harponty, Memori - Freeform, Season 4 Spoilers, So will Raven and Emori, Tales from the Ark, probably some Bellarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydeemz/pseuds/Jaydeemz
Summary: A collection of Memori-centric oneshots during their time on the Ark. There will be the great moments, like the first breaths that confirmed their immediate survival, and there will be darker ones. The following six years were not as easy as they hoped they would be, but this group of delinquents have survived through worse.One: For a moment, the only sounds in the corridor were a chorus of strangled gasps from the seven air-deprived young adults.Two: "What do you miss most about Earth?"





	1. And Instead, Murphy Kissed Emori

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to drop in a request in the review box or through Tumblr if there is something you'd like to read in this collection.

For a moment, the only sounds in the corridor were a chorus of strangled gasps from the seven air-deprived young adults.

Unsurprisingly, the first one to detach himself from the vent expelling precious air was Bellamy. Murphy, whose limbs were still tangled with Raven's and Emori's, ignored the other man as he started calling out orders, and instead inhaled deeply, filling his lungs until they throbbed with protest. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, yet he still felt Raven respond to Bellamy's command. Soon, the brush of her suit against his was gone, but a different body softly collided with his as Emori rolled beside him. He blinked, locking gazes with her as his panting slowly ebbed. 

Emori's lips opened, words hesitating to form, before she firmly pressed her lips together and simply beamed at him in the way that made his chest ache. Unable to resist that look -- unable to resist her -- he felt himself grin, and was rewarded by a relieved, slightly hysterical giggle from her. It was contagious, and Murphy's smile turned into a chuckle, which in turn made her laugh, and before he knew what had happened, she had pulled herself half on top of him to hug him, and his arms were firmly pulling her as close as he could. They roared with laughter. A lone tear slipped down Emori's cheek, and he reached up to collect it with the tip of his nose. She then leaned down and buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting laughter gradually die into an occasionally escaped snicker. 

Every breath she exhaled brought a fresh wave of goose bumps over his body. Just a moment earlier, he had resolved himself that he would never feel her breaths again. His right hand shot up to slip in her tangled hair and he drew her closer, letting his lips glide over hers in a kiss that was meant to be innocent, but turned anything but when Emori's tongue slipped against his. His left hand fisted itself in her space suit, desperately trying to convey something he was worried that his kisses wouldn’t. 

A cleared throat made them reluctantly break apart. Her body moved off his and she glanced up, a smugly satisfied smile gracing her features. It was the defiant glint almost constantly lurking in her gaze that had been Murphy's undoing back on earth... and hell, it was just as effective up in space. His eyes scanned over her face, down at her throat, and over her chest, which moved with every breath. 

She was alive. They both were. He couldn't help the smile that slipped over his face as he dropped his hand from her hair, tracing down her spine in a way he knew made her shiver. 

A few beats of silence later, he realized that he hadn't followed the conversation whatsoever. He arched an eyebrow before drawing both his arms behind his head, resting his head casually in his palms before giving the most drawn out, non-committal response he could manage. "Hm?" 

Emori's face lit up as she looked from Murphy to Bellamy, who was standing near their feet. Harper snickered audibly somewhere to his left, and Monty shushed her before they failed at concealing their peals of laughter. 

Clearing his throat once more, Bellamy repeated what Murphy assumed was the question he had missed. "I asked you if you could--"

"Help me take off this space suit," Emori murmured sensually, moving closer to his ear as she did so. Okay, that woman had to stop before Murphy lost his goddamn mind. He shot her a knowing look and she winked at him.

Meanwhile, Bellamy's face flushed, and he uncomfortably stuttered, "Actually, I asked if you guys could get changed. We can't damage the space suits." 

The couple exchanged an amused glance before Emori stood up, holding her hands out for Murphy. He clasped them both in his own, feeling the difference between them, before letting his girlfriend haul him to his feet. The second he was up, however, he disregarded Bellamy's presence altogether and picked up the grounder woman, swinging her in a quick circle, to her delight. He kept her in the air a second too long, and only when she began to squirm did he gently place her down. Bellamy's footsteps echoed away, along with his sigh of frustration and some comment about it would be a hell of a long half decade, and instead, Murphy kissed Emori again. 

"Someone is happy," she said knowingly, stepping away before slipping her fingers in Murphy's. 

"Yeah, Blake is always a joy to be around," he countered despite knowing damn well what she meant. The two remained serious only for a brief second before they dissolved in laughter once more. It was unlike them to be this giddy, but they were in space, for God's sake, and not dissolved by radiation. It was something to celebrate. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Murphy didn't head for the main bay window nearby; he knew what sight awaited them if they peeked towards the planet that had been their home for the entirety of their relationship. Instead, he manoeuvred through the oddly familiar hallways, ignoring the sights that had his stomach churn with unwelcome memories, until he had crossed the Ark and stood near a window that spanned from the floor to the ceiling.

He watched with amusement as Emori stepped toward the surprisingly clean window, stopping a few feet away as her glance immediately went down. She reached forward and skimmed the glass with her fingertips, and then moved forward, emboldened by the protection. Her face lit up with wonder as she glanced at the dozens of stars, rendered speechless by the immensity in front of her. Murphy moved to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. 

"This is so much better than an underground bunker," she breathed out, now pressing her nose against the glass. 

He pressed his lips to her hair briefly, shoving down every instinct he had to respond bitterly to her excitement -- the Ark was a prison to him, but he’d be damned before it became one to her. Instead, he replied with as warm a tone he could muster. "Welcome home."


	2. Morning, Already?

"What do you miss most about Earth?"

The question, asked flippantly by Monty during suppertime, had managed to make Murphy nostalgic for the stupid planet. Although it had been a roller coaster from the first few days onwards, Earth had also let him grow into someone he never believed he would become. Up in the Ark, he had been a criminal who simply waited for his 18th birthday to strike so the council wouldn't have to live with themselves after floating a child. 

But on Earth, he had been John Murphy, and his resume of accomplishments had been growing almost every single day. He had become less a criminal, and more of one at the same time; his heists with Emori still remained some of his most cherished memories. Still, every time he’d shared a pilfered meal with Emori, he’d felt a little bit like the hero she saw in him.

He would die before he’d admit this to Monty, however, so he just mumbled about how the food in space just sucked. 

Emori hadn't been present at dinnertime, but no one really had to ask Murphy if he knew the answer; it was clear that Emori missed the sun. Murphy had found her sound asleep in bed earlier, after she had spent the entire afternoon simply existing up in the Ark, drifting from one room to another. The darkness suffocated her. 

It was only when dishes had been cleared and a board game taken out of a dusty game library that Bellamy came to sit by his friend. He watched as Monty excitedly began to explain the rules to Echo; she had been trying to integrate the group more often, these days... unlike Emori, who was retreating into herself. 

"How is she?" Bellamy asked under his breath, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. 

"Suffering," Murphy said. He didn't want the other man to also catch on how Emori's absence affected him negatively, or how the Ark now seemed to smother him. "I don't think she ate at all today. I leave food for her in our room, but... It just piles up. She's..." He frowned, as though he was betraying Emori by speaking of her this way. "She's losing weight."

They both lapsed into silence as they looked at the board game in front of them. To everyone's surprise, Echo was kicking ass, and she wiped everyone off the board within about fifteen minutes. The "beginner's luck" term was introduced to the Azgeda warrior by a very annoyed Raven, and the game was set up for a second round. 

"You guys playing?" Raven asked, holding up two extra set of tokens. "Come on, the evening will fly by." Her gaze, turned momentarily concerned, lingered a bit on the two young men.

Murphy shook his head. "I'm going to turn in, actually. I--" 

"No." Bellamy stood, pulling the complaining boy with him. He all but dragged Murphy to the table and forced him down in an empty seat. "Play a round. Emori's asleep, anyways. Let her rest." There was an edge to Bellamy's voice that left no room for arguing, one that had never manifested before he'd been forced to leave Clarke behind. For that reason only, Murphy picked up the damn tokens, and resolved himself to one miserable game. 

***

Eight losses and two glorious wins later, Murphy stumbled his way toward his room in the semi darkness. He had left after his second success, despite the fact that a bitter runner-up Monty almost toppled the table when he had jumped to his feet to beg for an immediate rematch, and he was giddy with whatever endorphins came from winning against excellent competitors. 

Their bedroom door was shut, as usual. He crept in quietly, shutting the door almost soundlessly behind him, and glanced at the small folding table. The food packages were still there, untouched, and the sight made something uncomfortable unfurl in his stomach. His excitement vanished.

Emori had fallen asleep fully clothed, face first on the bed, and she hadn't moved an inch since the last time he'd seen her. Gently, he reached her side and knelt by the double bed to face her. Her eyes moved behind closed lids, and her face was contorted in the smallest of frowns. Murphy held his breath, straining to listen, and heard the gritting of her teeth. The sound had woken him up the previous few nights; he’d casually mentioned it to Bellamy earlier, and had found out it was most likely a sign of stress.

"Mori," he whispered, reaching over to brush her hair from her face. He almost reconsidered when she only frowned a bit deeper. "Mori, wake up." He traced her jaw line with his fingertips, then moved down the side of her neck and over her shoulder blade, repeating the movement until he successfully pulled her from slumber. 

Bleary chocolate eyes met John's concerned gaze. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Murphy was certain he was about to lose her again, but she exhaled deeply and whispered, "Morning already?"  
"It's... pitch black," he replied with a soft chuckle, pushing back a wayward strand of hair with his knuckles. "You know Raven or Monty turn on the lights in the morning." It wasn’t much of a light, he had to admit, but it still glowed unnaturally white under their door – as good an alarm clock as any, Monty had declared.

She sighed deeply, and murmured in a small voice, "It's always dark here."

Murphy remained silent for a few seconds, but then he began to rub her back deeply, kneading the tense muscles of her neck. "Just... come on, let's get you changed. You love your pajamas." He almost added 'remember', but abstained. He loved that memory of her learning about Sky People’s traditions, loved seeing her light up when she touched new materials. When he realized she was drifting off to sleep after his response, he stopped his massage, and instead moved to the sensitive spot near her rib cage, letting his fingers flutter there until she squirmed away from him. "Sit up, I'll even help you." As if to prove his point, he reached for her calves, tugging them toward the edge of the bed, while slipping an arm around her shoulders. He hoisted her up to a sitting position so easily it stung; how much weight had she lost, exactly? He'd have to start looking for a scale. 

To his surprise, however, she placed her palms firmly on his shoulders and pushed him away as he was crouching to remove her shoes. Caught off guard, he stumbled and ended up stumbling to his side, his hip hitting the ground uncomfortably. It was too dark for him to see her face, especially with her long locks hiding her away from him. The silence was loud after the unexpected scuffle. 

"What," she spat out, more awake than she'd been in days, "is the goddamn use, Murphy? Who cares what I'm wearing, or when I eat, or when I sleep?"

Slowly, he got to his feet; using his senses, he stumbled over the nearest dresser until he'd found a candle. He turned on the device and a small holographic flame appeared, giving off just enough light to see each other. 

"John," he whispered. His eyes did not waver from the candle. "You always call me Jo-- since when am I Murphy to you?" His fingers curled over the edge of the dresser, his nails bending under the pressure. Struck by a violent hatred for the Ark, for their situation, and for himself, he shoved the dresser hard, and it smashed against the wall. Whirling to her, he took one look at her broken face before a groan left him. "Emori, what's going on?"

Gingerly, she pulled up her feet. Murphy looked at her shoes, which were now burrowing under their blankets and most likely dirtying them, and wondered when stupid things like that had begun to bother him – on Earth, they slept on sand, in mud, in ditches. Old habits died hard, he supposed – his father would have freaked if his little John had worn shoes in bed. Murphy ran a hand over his face, his jagged nails stinging against his skin. He almost missed Emori's soft voice. "How do you do it? It's always dark in here, John." She buried her face in her knee. "I miss the sun rising every day. I miss the sunsets. I miss how it would be so uncomfortably hot in the desert at midday, and even how I used to freeze at night."

Murphy had moved to join her on the bed, but she fell silent the moment his feet stirred on the floor, so he froze until she resumed talking. "I'm always exhausted, John. I sleep and sleep and it doesn't help. I'm never hungry. Nothing changes. There's no morning, no night, no midday and I— I feel like I'm going crazy up here, and it's just been a month." Her voice cracked, and she huffed in frustration. The sound made him smile – he knew she always got annoyed when her voice failed her in whatever situation. 

After hesitating for a moment, he finally got his feet and stalked to his side of the bed before crawling in on top of the covers, shoes and all. He held out an arm and Emori laid down near him. She nestled her face in his chest, and her fingers curled in his shirt – she had this stressful habit to always sleep with her hands in tight fists, sometimes even drawing blood. Still, he didn't correct her, and wordlessly let her cry herself to sleep on his chest. 

***

"Murphy? Is that you?"

"Oh my god, it is Murphy. What the hell are you -- what have you done!?" 

"Bellamy," Murphy greeted, his voice way too loud for 4 am. "Raven." He barely spared them a glance.

"Okay," Raven replied, taking deep breaths. Her voice rose. "Let me rephrase: what the fuck, Murphy?"

Bellamy rose his hand, the universal sign for 'he's lost it; let me handle this'. He lifted his leg and stepped over the upturned dresser in the entrance. He ducked under a fallen floor lamp, and then jumped over the pile of clothes that had obviously just been removed from the dresser. Then, he stepped over a bed frame, glanced around the room to find the mattress stacked against the parallel wall, and then moved the two overturned night stands to finally reach Murphy, who was throwing clothes haphazardly from a storage bin. Bellamy glanced at Raven, then sighed and repeated, "What the fuck, Murphy."

"I'm scavenging," the other man replied, taking out a jewelry box. He whistled and used a nearby screwdriver to break the top open, and then turned it over on top of the pile of clothes. Earrings and bracelets scattered all over the place; Murphy sighed and tossed the jewelry box away. Perhaps he aimed for Bellamy's feet, perhaps not, but it landed close enough for Bellamy to jump away and careen in a nightstand. Murphy added, "Well, it seems like every damn resident brought their watch to Earth. I’ve been looking for at least an hour."

"You destroyed six rooms to find a watch?" Bellamy stated. He raised his voice, for Murphy had crawled into the closet. "It looks like a tornado went through these places." 

"Emori needs a watch," Murphy replied, crawling out of the closet with an impressive amount of dust bunnies clinging to his hair. He sidestepped Bellamy and left the room, brushing past Raven with barely a glance, and opened the bedroom facing the one he had just rummaged through. Just as he was reaching for a drawer, someone grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged him back. 

"All you have to do," Raven quietly said, stepping around him to look at him properly, "is ask. You know this, right?" She lifted her left hand and very deliberately took the watch from her own wrist. Then, she grabbed Murphy's hand, and placed the watch in his hand, curling his fingers around it. Surprisingly, she even smiled at him. "I know you're used to being on your own, but it'll be a long five years if we don't look out for each other. I'm not blind; I know she's adapting differently than Echo." Raven dropped her hands from his and stepped back. "Now go the hell back to bed, sucker, and you better clean all this up tomorrow."

As Bellamy yawned and also turned to go to bed, Murphy swallowed thickly and watched their retreating backs for a moment. His mind spun and he suddenly called back after them before he could think of whether or not it was smart to do so.  
"Wait! I... There's something else, yeah."

***

The fog of her last dream faded, and Emori woke up with her face uncomfortably stuffed in her pillow. She flopped to her side, unsurprised that John wasn't in bed. They barely spent time together, nowadays, although Emori admitted to herself that it was her own fault. A spring was digging in her stomach, so she rolled on her back, ending up on John’s side. Her eyes stung behind her eyelids and her limbs were heavy. She resolved herself to another day of sleep.

Yet sleep did not come. In fact, she realized that she was facing golden light, from the patterns dancing in front of her eyes. It was, however, the distant sound of a dripping waterfall that had her suddenly sit up in bed. 

To her disappointment, the stark grey walls of the Ark were still surrounding her; however, her room was different. The spotlights adorning the ceiling were now emitting an orange light instead of the bluish white one she had slowly grown accustomed to. She turned toward the waterfall, seeing instead a small pocket radio on her nightstand. Also, she realized that she had kicked off the blankets in her sleep, but the room was warmer than she ever remembered it being. Emori blinked as she scanned the room, easily finding Murphy sitting on their lone sofa, which they had 'borrowed' from the Chancellor’s quarters. He threw down the book he had been reading and smiled hesitantly at her. God, he was cute when he looked sheepish. "Good morning."

"What is this?" she asked, swinging her feet from the bed. As she did so, the lights above her brightened slightly in intensity, and she peered at them with suspicion. 

"This," Murphy declared, standing up from the couch. Emori met him halfway in the room, accepting the embrace he was offering. "This is our last ditch effort at helping you adapt to space. As someone who slept outside for most of her life, we thought maybe waking up with familiar sounds and with a bit of artificial sunlight might help you. It’ll gradually get brighter, and the radio will play a little bit louder every five minutes, until you turn off the system. It’s synchronized to this watch. " He tapped the wrist of her left hand, showing her the burgundy bracelet now snugly tied around the hand she used to despise. 

Tears prickled the back of her eyes at the thoughtfulness, at the effort, that this must have taken; she buried her face in Murphy’s neck and threw her arm back around his shoulders. Slowly, she asked, “What if it doesn’t work, John?” A spark of annoyance at the own weakness in her voice made her scoff and add, “... since this is your last effort, and all.” 

“We’ll float you.”

The abrupt change in his tone had her burst in laughter, and she pulled away to look at him in the eyes. He swept down to kiss her, his intensity making it very clear that he had been teasing her. "One day at a time, Mori. Let’s start with breakfast."

Emori glanced at the watch snugly wrapped around her wrist. 6:30 am – breakfast made sense. She followed him out the door, letting the warmth of his body compensate for the abrupt chill of the hallway, and trading the soft golden glow of their bedrooms for the vibrant white lights of the common room.


End file.
